


outlive the day

by kimaracretak



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/F, Making Out, Time Skips, background politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 18:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16707553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimaracretak/pseuds/kimaracretak
Summary: Leia and Hera, from war's beginning to its end.





	outlive the day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shiningstar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiningstar/gifts).



What Leia will always remember the most about Captain Syndulla - at least until the next time she meets her - is how, at a quick glance, she doesn't even seem separable from her pilot's chair. She's swung sideways across it with an ease belying the Imperial presence on Lothal, and Leia only needs that half-glimpse to know that the Ghost is Captain Syndulla's, in a way that the Tantive IV will never be her own.

And something about that casual competency, that sense of belonging, has Leia wanting to think all sorts of thoughts that she really shouldn't while in the middle of a mission, especially one this delicate.

Captain Syndulla is absentmindedly flicking a switch on the nav console back and forth, the tips of her lekku are curling gently over her shoulder as she listens to her astromech, and she looks like she couldn't possibly exist anywhere else.

Leia is, in fact, on the verge of retreating - of leaving the odd domesticity of the cockpit and trying to find a space to herself where she can get her breath back and start thinking more about plans and less about how Captain Syndulla is bothering her in very unprofessional ways - when her mouth betrays her. "Sorry for shooting your friends," she says, and immediately winces at how trite it sounds.

But Captain Syndulla grins with a speed that makes Leia's heart flip, and says, "Don't worry about it. Chopper was just telling me they deserved it."

The droid's air of innocence is so obviously put-upon when Leia glances over to him that she suspects this is far from the first time he's discussed the merits of shooting his shipmates. "Still," she says, "I should have planned better."

"Hey." Captain Syndulla sits up, expression turning serious faster than Leia can blink. "Things like this - they're not always about planning. They're about what happens when your plan gets shot to pieces. And you did real good out there today."

Leia can't help but smile, warmed by the captain's approval. "You think so?"

"I know so." Captain Syndulla beckons her forward, and Leia could no more resist her than she could resist gravity. She sidesteps Chopper to sit tentatively in the co-pilot's chair, and tries to shake off the sense that she's intruding.

She's not intruding, she's not. Captain Syndulla invited her here, because she thought Leia had done well.

"You ever flown before?" Captain Syndulla asks.

Leia can feel a very un-princess-like blush spreading across her cheeks. "No," she admits. "I mean, theoretically, I know most of the important bits, but I've never been out on my own before."

Captain Syndulla grins, reaches out for Leia's hand. "May I?"

Leia nods furiously, absolutely lost for words as Captain Syndulla carefully places her hand on the control panel, fitting her fingers around Leia's. "We've got a few hours. What do you say to some lessons?"

"Oh," Leia says softly, eyes fixed on the spaces where Captain Syndulla's green fingers rest next to her own pale ones. "Yes. Yes, I would like that very much."

 

**

 

Hera's no stranger to how war and the Empire age the ones who survive long enough to age at all - she's watched it happen to too many of her pilots, not to mention Ezra and Sabine. Leia, though - three years have done something to Leia that Hera suspects thirty more years of peace could never erase.

"General! General Syndulla! Over here please!"

There's mud streaking Leia's white dress, unidentifiable leaves stuck in her braids, and yet somehow she looks more regal and more beautiful than Hera's ever seen her before.

"Commander," Hera says, when she's close enough she doesn't have to shout over the noise of the jungle. "What's going on?"

"Oh, thank the Force you're back safe," Leia says, warmly grasping Hera's hands in her own. "I'm sorry for your loss. Master Kanan was a good man."

A half-smile tugs at the corner of Hera's mouth. Even after a year, she's still seeing how many lives Kanan had touched. For all that Leia had known him hardly a day her sincerity is that of a friend, not a politician, and it feels something like coming home. "He would be proud of the commander you've grown into," she says. _I'm proud_.

"Thank you." Leia ducks her head shyly for a moment, and when she looks up she's every inch a commander again. "I've been looking for you all day. Is there somewhere we can talk, privately?"

She's grown into command well, Hera thinks, and tries not to focus too hard on how this is more physical contact with another living being than she's had in ... well, too long. How the fact that it’s _Leia_ holding her hands warms something too long neglected in her heart. "The Ghost?" she suggests, before the silence can drag on long enough to be awkward. "My crew's in the mess, so if you don't mind Chopper?"

The astromech in question bumps against Leia's leg with something oddly close to affection, and Hera's gratified to see her smile. "Not at all. Please, General, lead the way."

She drops Hera's hands, the better for them to thread their way through the ships and crews scattered across Yavin IV's dozens of makeshift landing pads, and Hera wonders if she imagines the brief flicker of regret in Leia's eyes. The loneliness at the top of the Rebel Alliance command must be a hundred times worse than what Hera sometimes feels as the sole commander of the Ghost.

They walk in silence, Leia apparently serious about the need for privacy. Hera bites her tongue on a hundred useless questions - _how have you been, is your father safe, have you heard from Blue 12, is there anything I can do for you, not for Alderaan or the Rebel Alliance_ \- and tries to focus instead on thinking about how long she needs to get the Ghost flying again, in case Leia needs her to leave.

By the time she seals the cockpit's bulkhead behind them - Chopper on the floor between them after Leia's approving nod - Leia finally looks ready to speak.

"Lianna Hallik," she says, and Hera raises an uncomprehending eyebrow. "One of our operatives. Or someone who will be one of our operatives. I need you to find her."

"Let me guess," Hera says. "Real name unknown?"

Leia shakes her head. "I know it. I suspect you'll know it soon enough, once you find her. Rumour is she wants to come home."

"I see," Hera says slowly. She doesn't, not entirely, but she's done far stranger for the Rebellion. Would do far stranger for Leia. "Ghost? Phantom? And what about my crew?"

"You'll need the Ghost," Leia says. "Bring as few of your crew as you can. You'll rendezvous with one of our Fulcrum operatives to help you out."

"Someone I know?" Hera asks carefully. Experience has done its level best to teach her not to hope, but experience pales in comparison to Leia’s infectious brightness.

Leia shrugs, and Hera can read a galaxy's worth of politics in the elegant slant of her shoulder. "Probably not. But I've always found you full of surprises, General."

She seems, suddenly far closer than the space of the cockpit should allow for. Leia’s hands are fidgeting in her lap, and Hera’s struck with the inexplicable urge to say something, do something to keep Leia in the Ghost with her. She’s sure, without knowing why, that Leia would stay, if only she knew the right way to ask.

But she doesn't, and the cockpit is too quiet around them.

"Well." She tries for a grin instead, thinks she probably succeeds. "I'll try to live up to your expectations then."

"You will," Leia says, and then before Hera can react she's leaned forward to press their lips together.

For a moment, Hera's too stunned to do more than bring one hand up to cup the back of Leia's head, but the moment she starts kissing Leia back in earnest, Leia pulls away.

"What," Hera licks her lips. "What was that for?"

"Now you have to come back," Leia says simply, all back to business as she gets up and straightens her dress. "Safe travels, flygirl. I'll forward you all the information you need."

And with that she's gone, leaving Hera with the faint taste of cinnamon on her lips and a cackling Chopper on the floor.

 

**

 

The Ghost is listing perilously close to sideways when Leia finds it in a mercifully Ewok-free clearing. Nothing seems to be immediately on fire, though, so Leia hopes the ship's position is slightly more purposeful than it looks.

And then there's Hera, leaning against one of the landing struts, cap and goggles askew and a burn rippling down one leg of her jumpsuit, but otherwise in one piece. Leia's unprepared for the shock of relief that hits her at the sight - it's been such a long day, and there are so many pieces still left to pick through, that she'd almost thought herself numb to any further feelings.

Hera raises her glass in a salute as Leia approaches, the light from the stars and distant fires refracting off the pale blue liquid and casting a faint glow across the forest floor. In that light she looks nearly a ghost herself, but for her irrepressible smile.

Leia crosses the clearing hurridly, boots sinking into the thick grasses as she doesn't quite run (and, oh, she thinks dimly, in the small part of her mind that hasn't quite left the battle behind, suddenly the Ghost's position makes much more sense). She pauses when she's within arm's reach of Hera, uncertain for once which of the things crowding at the back of her tongue she wants to say first, but Hera solves the problem by immediately sweeping her into a fierce kiss.

For a long while that's all Leia wants to think about, kissing Hera: the other woman's fingers rough in her hair, the faint scent of smoke and electricity that always clings to Hera no matter where she's come from, the comforting weight of Hera's lekku resting against her shoulder.

"You're back," Leia finally says, when they're disentangled enough to speak. "You made it, you're -"

Okay, she almost says, but it's such a small word for the vast shifts that the galaxy has undergone since they last saw each other mere days ago. Leia has always loved how easy it was to fall back in with Hera no matter how long they'd been apart for, but this - this reunion was different.

"Alive," Hera supplies breathlessly. Her sure, steady hands are firm as they stroke up and down Leia's arms, her calloused fingertips catching on the strands of hair that have escaped Leia’s braids. The slight tugs on her scalp send sparks of electricity down her spine.

"Alive," Leia repeats. The proof is in Hera's heartbeat, slower than a human's but undeniable against Leia's chest. She knows even without looking up that Hera is smiling, can feel the curve of her lips against her cheek. “And the Ghost?” She’s certain Hera wouldn’t be nearly so calm if anything serious had happened to the ship, but some formalities were hard to shake, even now.

Hera laughs, and the genuine pleasure in the sound sets Leia off too, until they’re both leaning against the Ghost’s side in a tangle of limbs, helpless against the tide of mirth.

"She’s alive, too," Hera says when she gets her breath back. Leia hums contentedly from where her head has ended up buried in the crook of Hera’s neck. “And I think she missed you.”

"You mean, you missed me," Leia teases, and squeezes Hera’s ass, just because they’re alive and she can. Hera’s choked noise of surprise is just as gratifying as her laughter.

"We both did," Hera says, voice low with promise enough to make Leia’s stomach twist with wanting. “Come inside so I can show you?”

It’s not an order, not quite, but Leia is more than happy enough to follow her inside anyway.


End file.
